He Who Must Not Be Named
by WitchatHeart77
Summary: In a world where hope is lost with the savior that would kill Voldemort, there are those that keep that hope alive deep within their hearts. If only they could say his name, they would call for him to return.


_**Dark little fic I thought of one day. Hope you like it... will be continued but slowly as I'm working on "Reconciliation" at the same time. Thank you for reading!**_

**__**

"I know, Hermione! I was there. You don't need to bring it back up." Ron was tired of having Hermione replay the last five minutes of the battle over and over again through conversation. "And besides; what does it matter that He disappeared? He isn't here now, is He?"

"Ron, you don't understand! He just disappeared. There was no body. No bones. No evidence of His death anywhere. He could still be alive!"

Ron looked at the love of his life with slightly tarnished hope. He wanted to believe her. He truly wanted to feel that somewhere in the world Harry Potter was still alive. He just couldn't bring himself to believe it. Why would Harry Potter just leave them there to be defeated by the Dark Lord, Voldemort? Why would Harry betray his friends?

Ron reached up and stroked her cheek with affection. "I love you. I love the way your mind works. How you wholeheartedly put faith in what you believe and don't back down. I really do love that, Hermione. But this time you're wrong. He's gone, and he's not coming back."

He turned from her and began to trek outside to the garden to finish his list of chores. He never once believed that he would be a slave to a Death Eater, but he never thought that one of them would actually be pleasant to work for either. Millicent Bulstrode wasn't as awful as she looked.

The only reason Millicent even hung around Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy was because she was expected to by her father. So when Voldemort's followers began to run free after their victory, Millicent took it to heart that she would be free. Free from the expectations of a higher standard than most. Free to do as she pleased with whom she pleased. It was her father that made her house the blood traitor and the mudblood. They were to do everything she told them to. If they did not comply, then one family member would die. Hermione's will and determination turned futile when she disobeyed Mr. Bulstrode's orders to lie down with him. He came back ten minutes later covered in blood holding Hermione's grandmother's locket in his hand. She learned to obey.

It has been seven months since the war ended. Hermione and Ron heard about the enslavement of anyone who did not side with Voldemort. They worried they would be torn apart, so they got married before they were captured. Hermione was the first to leave the cellar and be given to Millicent when it was discovered that the know-it-all was with child. Hermione pleaded with Millicent to take in Ron. Her reasoning was that she could not do her work without someone to help care for the child, and since Millicent wasn't about to take care of a muggle-born baby, she agreed to take him as well.

Their life with Millicent wasn't as horrible as they had first thought. She fed them, clothed them, and even took Hermione to the shops to get maternity robes and things for the baby. Hermione was compelled to be grateful for her Mistress's generosity. She never disobeyed anything Millicent commanded. Ron was a different story at first. His hard headed pride got him into trouble more than once, but he soon found himself on the receiving end of enough Cruciatus curses to finally break his will and his hope.

"He is not!"

"Hermione, lower your voice. If they hear you talking about Him again, they could hurt you. Even worse, they could hurt the baby. Just keep it to yourself, alright!"

"Fine."

They continued with their duties. Hermione went to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal while Ron went to finish the gardening. The sun was set when he came back in covered in soil.

"Clean yourself up this instant!"

Millicent was a stickler for a clean house. She would not have filth traipsed into her domicile.

"Yes, Ma'am. May I use a Scourgify, Ma'am?" he asked with his head bowed in respect to his Mistress.

"Just this once. And only because you have already sullied up my floor." Millicent took out her wand and cast the spell that not only cleaned up the mess on the tiles but on Ron as well leaving him dirt free and well groomed. "Much better."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

She turned to Hermione. "Is it done? I am starving, you know."

"Yes, Ma'am. I am just setting the table now."

Millicent walked into the dining room to see that the places had been set appropriately and with taste. The fine china set in three places with the crystal goblets full of chilled wine. The brisk steamed in the middle of the table, and the vegetables were bright and vibrant with color.

"Excellent work, Hermione. Another meal well prepared. Please alert my guests that dinner is served."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Hermione excused herself from the room and headed for the drawing room where Draco and Pansy Malfoy were talking animatedly. Hermione barely entered the room and curtsied.

"Dinner is served, Lord and Lady Malfoy." She curtsied again and gestured to the dining room.

Draco preceded his wife. He stopped at Hermione long enough to muse her hair with his hand. "That's a good little mud blood. You have learned your place well."

Hermione wanted to swat his hand off her head but there was nothing she could do. Draco's social status outranked that of Millicent. He could have them all killed if she stepped out of line. She simply bit her tongue and nodded.

"Thank you, M'Lord."

There were approximately two thousand daggers in Draco's back the moment he slipped by her. If only glares could kill.


End file.
